Story of Keigh- Bonus Material
by snowflakesanddandelions
Summary: Bonus material for my story, "The Story of Keigh," but could also be read as one-shots. "The Story of Keigh" is all from Keigh's point of view (she's an OC and also Crowley's daughter), so these are other characters' points of view just to keep me balanced. So far I have Gabriel and Dean contributing.
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Welcome, readers! This is actually bonus material for my story "The Story of Keigh," but can also be read as one shots.

So far, I just have this one chapter, which is GabrielxOC.

Not an Entry 14.2

I had met the girl when she was just a little one, only a few years old, really, as the humans count. Now, I knew she'd be older, so decided to have a few good tricks up my sleeve and stay just a little ahead of the game.

Of course, just copying her room was a little boring. So I created some alternate ideas. All the disorganization of a real teenager's room left plenty of scope for creativity. I made, just for example, a horror version, a sparkly pink and rainbow-colored little girl's version, and a completely edible version, just to get started. But I don't want to bore you.

When I finished adjusting Keigh's room, I recreated the completely boring duplicate version with a snap of my fingers, and instantly transported the curly-haired hybrid wench there.

She proceeded to sleep peacefully for another 3.5 hours. Long enough for me to get a certain little- hm- plan of mine just about perfect. I was so absorbed that I didn't notice she was waking up until three minutes before she woke up.

I was too busy wondering how she would respond to my little replica of her room and forgot her reaction to me being in it. She woke up and turned on the light. I was ready for her to scream, but she just sort of froze and scooted away.

So, we were still on for a good conversation.

"Good morning, Keigh," I said cheerfully, watching her response.

"What are you doing in my bedroom?"

So, a girl who gets right to the point. I like that. Next, I pretended to be annoyed. Just to gauge whether she was the apologize forever type or the won't give a robber an inch type. Just, like, for my personal information.

"Fine," I said, a little sharply. "We're not in your bedroom." I suppressed a silly grin of excitement; she was about to watch me perform a trick. I snapped my fingers. Empty warehouse. Well, mostly empty. You'd be surprised how much work goes into making a place look real, especially if it's empty. Not that Keigh would appreciate my labor, but at least I got the cool vanishing-bedroom effect. Since she seemed pretty chill, I decided to up the sarcasm.

"I'm just trying to make your flight as comfortable as possible," I joked, getting in just the right mixture of emotions. Pouty, whiny, smart, genial, sarcastic, sassy, sexy, annoying.

The girl wasn't so impressed.

"Cut the crap, Trickster," she said. "I need sugar."

She did look pretty sleepy. I have to say, though, even raccoon eyes can't hide the beauty of a girl as gorgeous as this little entitled princess.

Since the only thing I love more than caffeine is sugar, I was happy to make her wishes come true. Candy- everywhere! Maybe it was overkill, but I was pleased with the effect.

Okay, so maybe I orated my ego a little.

"Finally, a complaint I can sympathize with. You won't believe how long it's been since a heard from a girl after my own heart, like you." [Dramatically snaps fingers. Room gasps in awe.]

I couldn't help but notice the almost-eye-roll that flashed across her face before she gamely grabbed a bag of Skittles and started eating them by the handful.

Not satisfied with merely mocking my diet, she turned on my own best speaking style. You gotta love a kid that can match you sarcasm for sarcasm.

"So, what are you doing in not-my-bedroom?"

I grinned and turned up the charm. "I'm so glad you asked that, Keigh." (It's important to know your customers so that you can address them personally when speaking.) "As you may be aware, your father has requested that I [dramatic pause]- assist you in relocating yourself and protecting sensitive information about your identity. I'm here to make sure your ride into a new life is as smooth as possible."

"Wow," said Keigh, tossing her head. "That was some good baloney. How long did you spend practicing that speech?"

Of course I practiced it. Who does she think I am? It's only professional to prepare your sales pitch well before you think you will need it.

The truth is a little narrow. A good Trickster always gives himself options.

"I'm naturally eloquent," I said, smoothing back my hair and smiling. Keigh grabbed another bag of candy and smiled sweetly back at me.

"Of course you are. Did your Mommy tell you that?" she deadpanned. I almost winced. A worthy opponent indeed.

Maybe even worth sharing some of my real self with.

"I don't have a Mommy, and Daddy never says anything."

I usually am not surprised by what comes out of my mouth. It was a fluke. It totally had nothing to do with the fact that a pretty girl who was completely off-limits was staring at me, pretending sweetly that neither of us was an obnoxious brat, which was patently untrue.

I covered up my emotions with an elegantly inserted, mostly fake pouty face. I must be losing my touch, because it was a total flop.

Keigh instantly lost the fake smile.

"Well, hey then, we ought to be able to get along," she said quickly, looking me in the eye. I am not going to get attached to this girl. That is definitely not going to happen. No way.

Keigh was still talking. "I never knew my mother, and Dad's pretty okay sometimes, but he can be a little distant, so I totally get it."

Was she serious? She was serious. She was actually offering me friendship. I think.

"I will be checking up on you regularly, so it's entirely possible that you may see me around. Just look for candy wrappers."

She was _still_ looking at me. I needed to stop things before she started to feel sorry for me or something awful like that. I cleared my throat and got her attention.

"Now, you have an eentsy-weentsy crush on our Deany-poo, yes?"

Massive reaction. Blushing, ducking, looking away, squirming, the works. I love reactions. This one even came with commentary. I was definitely putting this one in my mental portfolio.

"You're not supposed to know about that."

I was already winning, so I decided to up the stakes. Time to bring out the big one.

"Dean likes babies. Maybe we should get you one, you know? Like a child actor." Rambly, I know, but it was a good cover for my mental calculations.

She started to protest, but I went ahead. With a snap of my fingers, I was a little baby, lying in the arms of what certainly appeared to be me. A double transform. You've got to hand it to me; I'm good. She totally bought it.

Or least, she was so enamored with baby me that she completely ignored fake me. But I don't think she caught on.

"Aw, look, he's so cute," she said, talking to fake me but still staring at real me. "Can I hold him?"

I made fake me smirk and say, "Sure." I would have said it, anyway. Never mind that I really wasn't motivated by what I would have done if I was really full grown and holding a baby boy instead of being the baby boy and faking that the grownup illusion was holding me. Hey, beautiful lady, possible real friend, thinks you are cute? No matter what form you're in, what's not to love?

Instead of taking me, she asked another question.

"How am I going to take care of him, Trickster?" she asked. It was a good question. If she botched it, I might be a little miserable. However, with the Harvelles' help, I thought Keigh could do a good job.

I wasn't really tired of being called "Trickster," even though I could almost hear the Mr. she wasn't putting on the front, because she wasn't calling _me_ that. However, for the sake of accurate faking, I called her on it.

"Yeah, about that," said fake me, "you can call me Loki. That _is_ one of my names. You'll have help with the baby."

"Loki, huh?" said Keigh. "Shall I name him Tom, just for you?" I knew I was missing some obvious cultural reference, but I didn't care.

Keigh took me. It was a relief to not be sustaining an illusion _and_ levitating at the same time. She was so gentle.

Maybe I should think about being nicer to people. I hadn't noticed how likeable it makes you if you're nice instead of being bratty.

Keigh rocked me a little, and I reached up to touch her face. I gurgled, and Keigh held me a little closer.

I could do this being a baby thing.

"What kind of help?" she murmured, still talking to fake me.

"I'm taking you to a family that supports the hunting community. They know the Winchesters a little bit, so you'll have to stay low profile, but they won't freak out if you know too much. You'll need a new identity, of course, and preferably a new appearance."

I could have ditched the illusion and just used a disembodied voice, for all the attention Keigh was paying. She was too busy getting to know her new baby.

"What do you want me to look like?" she crooned. "What does he want me to look like, Tommy?"

"A little younger would be preferable," said fake me. I hadn't even realized he was talking. I must have programmed him to be able to guess what to say.

"You look like a twenty-year-old, but you act like a teenager."

 _Hey, fake me, don't pick on Keigh. She likes babies. That's the only important part._

"Well, I'm five," said Keigh. "Go figure."

"At least you're a few years older than your hypothetical child," said fake me. Keigh laughed. I tried to laugh, too, but it came out kind of squeaky. It's whatever.

"So, how old is Tommy?" asked Keigh.

Fake me got goofy. "Five minutes? A few thousand years? Meh, we'll go with seven months."

Seven months. Reflecting, I realized there had never been a number that had less to do with my real attributes. Not that it mattered.

" _Loki_ ," Keigh complained. She giggled again, and I waved my hand at her. Keigh examined my fingernails. "Aw, he's so little. Look at his little fingernails, Loki."

Obviously I was totally winning the popularity contest against myself. Fake me started to get annoyed and sighed dramatically. Just what I would have done, in his position. Which I wasn't. I was the center of Keigh's almost undivided attention.

Even the sigh wasn't enough to bring Keigh back to the real world. Eventually she absent-mindedly asked, "Sorry, what were you saying?"

Good job, Kiki. Way to have a conversation. You know what, how about you just ignore him, and we can run away together? I'm sure you would be a great Mommy.

Fake me answered the question. "You need to change your appearance. Your father tells me you have some shapeshifting abilities. Ideally, you want to look different enough that facial recognition software will not recognize you as the same person, and also you would ideally look a little younger than you do, maybe around seventeen or eighteen."

"Okay," said Keigh. "I'll need a mirror so I can see what I look like. Then I won't forget and shift back to my original appearance."

"Sure," said fake me. This was right up his alley. He snapped his fingers, and I reluctantly allowed him to set up a mirror, and a crib to put me in. What he needs this for, I don't know.

Until Keigh goes and puts me in the crib. Traitor. You will regret this. Besides, it's not fair. You know the real me is way cuter than any fake dude that just happens to look like me.

The toys were utterly pointless, so I just took a nap while I waited for the nincompoop to finish messing with my new adoptive Mommy. It was super boring. When I got bored and sat up, they were arguing about Keigh's hair.

I hadn't noticed before what gloriously pullable hair Keigh has. Tragically, critical details like these were lost on me for all of my adult life.

Keigh flickered back and forth between herself and the all-new makeover edition perfectly crafted to annoy an already-attached baby boy. Fake me saw the smoke, and I guess he freaked out. Of course, I developed him to behave like I was planning to, you know, as if I were merely a Trickster. I'm not stupid enough to miss Keigh's interesting heritage, but I guess my illusion was. I hope his stupidity never gets us all killed, because the next thing he did was grab me and run out of the room screaming.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

 **Second bonus chapter! Enjoy.**

Not an Entry 25.2

I made my decision to have Keigh take care of me. Fake me had run away, so I had to continue with the Loki-got-scared plan. Wasn't my favorite, but I worked it out. As long as she didn't think to check with Crowley, since I actually hadn't talked to him about her being a Leviathan.

I had fake me write the note and then set myself up in a basket in the warehouse, made sure Keigh would hear me, wherever I was and wherever she was, and waited.

I started with just some baby noises, hoping she would hear me and come soon. Then I got bored (probably after about 35 seconds?). Then I started to worry. What if Keigh didn't come for me? What if she put me up for adoption? (Revert back to adult Loki, right? Duh, right? It's harder to stay calm and use common sense if you're a baby, though.) What if, worse, she loved me until she found out I was me, and then rejected me?

Honestly, it was also just pretty miserable being all alone in an empty warehouse. I couldn't even suck on a lollipop to calm down, as Keigh would probably suspect something if Loki left little Tommy alone with a sucker to choke on. Before I knew it, I was wailing. I guess that's what babies do when they're stressed, lonely, cold, and generally miserable.

By the time Keigh showed up, I had been crying for about half an hour and was on the verge of giving up on being a baby at all. Crying with an audience can be embarrassing, y'all, but crying alone? No fun. Absolutely no fun.

Keigh walked over and picked me up, holding me with an arm-and-a-half and trying to read the note I left her. Or fake me did, before I dissolved him. I forget what I even put in that thing. Something convincing. I mean, the situation was obvious, right? Baby over here. Take the baby.

I feel like it took her a really long time to read that note, but I guess I was being pretty distracting. I needed her to pay attention to _me_ , not some stupid note Not-Me wrote to make this look real. Also, I was still worried that she wouldn't want to keep me. Like now, or later, or ever. I lost everybody when I ran away from Heaven. Dad, my brothers, everybody who even knew who I was. My new family (sort of?) accepted me, but I was always that weird one who never quite fit in. Also, nobody could ever get my story straight. (Odin is- my dad? My brother? Full brother? Half-brother? "Blood brother"? And if we're brothers, are our parents my parents or his parents?) Check it out. I promise you will not find a coherent picture. Also, they weren't all the friendliest, most peaceable people in the known universe. Not that my original family were, either. But at least they were family.

And now? How many friends do I have? Well, I could count them on my fingers- if I had any. Oops. None. Except, well, maybe Keigh? And then there's the Winchester boys. They don't like me, but I don't mind them. Nice kids, really, and so fun to tease. And Kali used to like me. We were even lovers. Until she dumped me.

So, yeah, I was just generally miserable. Keigh was starting to look a little frustrated, but she didn't get mad at me. She did check my diaper. Nope, lady, that's not it. I'm just cold and miserable and freaking out a little.

Then she set me down- I was not happy- and took off her jacket. And wrapped me in it. Her jacket was so warm and soft, and it even smelled like her. Except it also smelled like new car. Kind of a lot.

I wondered briefly what would make Keigh smell so much like new car today. Maybe she went to a dealership. Maybe she was trying out rental cars to celebrate her 21st birthday.

I didn't 100% stop fussing, but honestly I was pretty exhausted from all that yowling, and I felt a little more confident that Keigh wouldn't just abandon me after tucking me in her jacket, so I settled down a little.

Then something wonderful happened. Keigh started to sing. As an adult, I would have been annoyed that it was all off-key and the verses to even the simplest kid songs got jumbled up, but as a baby, I didn't care. I stopped worrying about everything else and just listened. I laid my lead back and started to just relax.

After several minutes, Keigh hugged me a little closer and teleported us back to what I assumed was her place. The new car smell was even stronger there. For a minute, I felt stifled, almost like I couldn't breathe enough. I did eventually get used to the smell, though. I was also trying to process that I got to keep Keigh.

Then she goes and tries to set me down in some kind of blanket-stuffed laundry basket. Honestly, I didn't care where she was trying to set me down. It was not okay. I clung to her with all my strength and fussed. I won. She gave up and took me with her. Did I mention that I am totally, ridiculously attached to my new Mommy? I'm sure I must have at some point.

We sat at a computer for a while. I got kind of bored, so I started squiggling. Keigh put me on a blanket, and we hung out together for a while. I practiced talking and scooting around. When I got tired, Keigh read to me and then I think I fell asleep. I haven't slept that well in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

**I have to start putting in points of view now, because I'm adding a character. Not an Entry 30.3 will be from Dean's point of view. In case it's at all confusing, the first two chapters were both from Gabriel's point of view. (Or Loki, or Tommy. Same person.)**

Not an Entry 30.2

 _Gabriel_

I'm starting to really love being Keigh's baby (brother?). She's so kind, and seems to have really accepted me as one of the family. Crowley's not fooled, but he's keeping his mouth shut, and as long as he does, I get to keep my new Mommy. You could say I'm family-challenged, so being loved and accepted is a really big deal to me.

I was a little surprised when Keigh decided to bring me on a case with the idiot hunter boys, but I was pleased. I'd have thought Keigh would make me stay safe and protect me from having any fun as a baby, and I was ok with that, but apparently her idea of parenting isn't averse to a little entertainment. So now- get this, it's hilarious- I'm going on a case with the Winchesters. And Keigh.

Dean's reaction was just the greatest thing. I knew he was hopelessly in love with all babies everywhere, but it's one thing to observe it and another to experience it in person. He spent what felt like hours giggling and cooing over me. Am I even an archangel anymore?

It was kind of hard to miss how Keigh was looking at Dean, even for a baby. Not that I'm actually a baby or anything. But even Dean noticed. 'Course he did, he's obsessed with girls.

Dean winked at Keigh. Then Keigh smiled at Dean. And it was all downhill from there.

Keigh reached over and patted my hair. "Hey, Dean," she said sweetly. Oh, kiddo, I thought. You do not know what you're getting into. But maybe she did, judging by the rest of the conversation. I knew she liked Dean, but it looks like she knows he needs some careful handling, or he's a total flirt and ladies' man.

"Yeah, Keigh, what is it?" said Dean. I guess he hadn't quite caught the lilt in her voice, or the way she moved her head differently, suddenly conscious of her pretty hair, or the way she gazed into his eyes and smiled at his hair, the flannel shirt over his shoulder, the dimple in his cheek. Or maybe he just didn't want to move too fast and scare her away. Maybe he knew she wasn't another loose waitress in a small town bar with nothing to do.

Well, it didn't matter _how_ thick ole Deano, was, because Keigh laid it out for him.

"I had a crush on you," she said, blushing perfectly, leaning forward a little, beautifully nervous. "In high school."

There was no need to freeze this moment. The way they looked at each other was permanently burned into my memory. Dean looking shocked, joyful, nervous, arrogant as always, waiting patiently, hanging on her words.

"I, uh, kinda still think you're cute," said Keigh. I got what she was trying to do- nervously telling Dean she still liked him, and could he possibly like her back. All he heard was the kinda part.

"Kinda, huh?" said Dean, a little upset, a little disappointed, but still almost purring, he was so happy to be talking to a beautiful girl who kinda liked him back. "Well, uh- that's nice."

He was trying to sound friendly, non-judgmental, and ready to listen, but he mostly came across as disappointed, although the look on his face was still betraying him. I ship Deigh.

My dear mother can rescue any situation.

"Yeah," she said, gazing at him just a little dreamily. Then she got serious, but not too serious. "It is," she said. "I don't mind liking you. You can be annoying and thick sometimes-" Preach it, Mama! "-but you're not a bad _guy._ "

I could see Dean understood what she was saying, but he can't help being a snarky old barnacle.

"I'm a guy," he said, smiling and raising his eyebrows. That's mature. Why don't you have some respect for my mother, Dean Winchester? It's all in the last name, I guess. Winchesters have no respect for anybody. It's what makes them good Hunters.

"Oh, stop it," Keigh laughed.

Dean pretended to be hurt. "I thought you said you liked me," he joked.

Keigh slapped him. I don't think any of us were expecting that, although Keigh may have known she might end up slapping Dean. Keigh rocks.

"Be sensible, Dean. I like the real you. Flirt away, but I don't promise to swoon over your idiotic pickup lines."

Dean froze, then slowly smiled. "Hey, that's cool," he said. He was trying to keep it macho, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling like a little kid at a carnival.

Sam came and broke them up, but they were still looking at each other a good fifth of the time, and I caught Dean winking at Keigh a few times.

They talked about the case, blah, blah, blah. Dean didn't even notice he was still holding me until he got buckled, so I had a long time to think about him. He smelled like leather and beer and a bit of good honest dirt. He wasn't as cuddly as my mommy, but he was gentle and didn't shake me around or anything. I decided Dean was okay after all. He might hate me as a Trickster and think I deserve to be killed like every other monster he's ever met, but he's really an okay guy. I mean, he obviously didn't deserve Keigh, but I could see that they both liked each other. I could ship them. They're actually a really cute couple. I guessed I didn't mind if Keigh and I hung around with Dean and Sam sometimes. Sam's a total sweetheart, and Dean is okay. We could be friends. If he would give up on trying to kill me.

Maybe if he got to know me as a harmless little kid, he'd forgive me for being an awful grownup.


	4. Chapter 4

Not an Entry 30.3

 _Dean_

I don't usually date girls I know. Or, like, care about. To me, it's simpler just to kinda get in and get out, you know? It's safer that way, I guess. You don't get your heart broken. At least not the same way.

But maybe I've been missing something. Maybe there is something to Sammy's whole, y'know, stable dating relationship thing. With a girl you actually care about, 'cause then she can actually love you back or something. Weird.

I keep trying to tell Sammy, you know, Hunters just don't really have girlfriends. Or they die, or the Hunters die, and some poor wench is left with a house full of kids, no health insurance, and no life insurance. It's a rough life. It's not a good place for raising a family.

But you know how it is with girls. Sometimes they just look at you, and you get these weird ideas, and it turns you into a whole different person. And not in a good way. Girls are dangerous, man. Awesome. But dangerous.

Well, Keigh is definitely dangerous, I mean, she's a freaking half demon half Leviathan, whatever that means. Bobby said she's Crowley's _kid_.

Well, I kinda liked her, but no way am I dating a monster kid, ya know? But then, today she was different. Cute, even. Not just badass, although that was definitely there too.

Dude, she slapped me. I'm still thinking about that. I think I like her. But that's dangerous. I mean, that is a whole 'nother road to go down, liking a girl that might stick around.

Not that I haven't encouraged Sammy to date a girl. But that's his thing. Not mine. He actually likes getting his heart broken or something. Thinking there's hope. Well, there's not. You get dumped. That's just how the world works.

Girls, man- I don't know. Who has them figured out? Hah. Not too many guys I know. I bet even Sammy doesn't know why girls act like girls. Seriously, who would wanna act like a girl? That doesn't even sound right.

Except when Keigh's doing it. Dude, I have it bad. I even hope she still likes me in a week. No shit.


End file.
